


The Biunivocal Difference: Ulfric vs Tullius

by sickoi



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24356014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sickoi/pseuds/sickoi
Summary: Making a choice in life sometimes seems the hardest thing ever. Politically, the adjective "complex" is added in this context. A country is dismembered, the folk is divided into two. Two factions cannot coexist, one must dominate the other. Ulfric and Tullius: instinct, on the one hand, rationality on the other that fight each other.The reader will decide who to be with, fighting to the end for their idea.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. The Biunivocal Difference: Ulfric

** ULFRIC **

Whenever someone asks me what power is for me, I respond by saying that it is my reason for living.My father – my greatest point of reference – based my childhood on the precepts of a true North: fight as a hero and hope the trip to Sovngarde will arrive late. When he and I fought in the rain, scratches and bruises throbbed with adrenaline. In my head, with each hit, I kept saying “No pain. No pain. No pain!” My father knew how bad it hurt, but he didn't stop anyway. I had to keep increasing my pain threshold. 

At the age of six, he sent me to the Graybeards, in Hrothgar Alto. The idea of the seven thousand steps didn’t scare me. Indeed, it was another challenge to overcome: if you are strong enough, you can go up. Here, in the harsh weather, I was instructed by Arngeir in the Way of the Voice. I admit it, my thoughts went against those of Jurgen Windcaller. Thu'um is a weapon and should be used as such. I dare to make a metaphor: it is like a jewel. Is it better to keep it in a display case, away from the eyes, or to show it off in all its splendor?

And then there were the war years against those cursed Thalmor. I was only fifteen, but my spirit was as if it had been born from the ashes of a scorched earth. I was ready. 

The nights I spent near the corpses of my companions seemed to last longer than the battle itself. Their looks to the sky and their skin, same color as the moon, reminded me of how close I was to death. I have never been so attached to life as on those night. 

[...]

Elenwen's imprisonment and torture didn’t affect me even a little. I would never have spoken. The sunrises and nights differed in a few details and the movement of flocks of birds around the watchtowers was the only thing I recognized. 

When I managed to escape, Galmar and I returned resentfully to Skyrim. The Aldmeri and the Imperials took everything away from us, with a simple signature. Those who deny their faith are said to subscribe to another. But not my people, my strong Nords. The cult of Talos lived and still lives today, despite its temple being destroyed. This is only the beginning of how the civil war started. My hatred sometimes seems unjust, but believe me, I have many reasons. The Imperials themselves, those who violated the Concordat White Gold, imprisoned me again, without allowing me to attend my father's funeral. Since then, my goal was to find Skyrim's living space, the stains had to be erased. 

[...]

I haven't forgotten Torygg's death. His biggest mistake was being weak and submissive to the Empire. He, aware of my strength, accepted equally - this still does him great honor -

Like a leaf, he flew on the ground at the sole echo of my Thu’um. The final blow was marked by my sword. His blood flowed from the wound, an erupting volcano. The King of kings was dead. The title still belongs to me by right and I will get it at the end of the war.

[...]

The ambush was a low blow. I took it as a compliment because Tullius didn't have the balls to face me directly. To Helgen, fate showed me that it is still on my side. The dragon attack allowed me to escape with my men and complete my mission.

Now I find myself in my room writing a book about my victory and my ideas. I am often accused of discrimination, but it is only mud thrown to make my figure hate. I am carrying on my battle, bringing together anyone who believes in the tradition of a story under my protection. 

Anyone who takes sides with the traitors will see themselves as enemies, not only me, but all my men. The Leader comes, standing in line my people.


	2. The Biunivocal Difference: Tullius

**TULLIUS**

I, Tullius, the General of the Imperial Legion and Provincial Governor of Skyrim, have been taking on a battle for too long: defeat Ulfric Stormcloak.

Since childhood, protecting Tamriel has been a fundamental feature of my life, both personal and political. And for this reason, when the emperor Titus Mede II sent me to Skyrim, a charge of andrenaline pumped me into my veins. My moment was coming. 

[...]

From the beginning my fighting skills have always surprised anyone. I wield my beloved my imperial sword, it is as if I merge with her. Already during the Great War, General Jonna knew how much potential I had. I had no trouble drawing enemy blood with my weapon. After his resignation, I was promoted by the emperor to the rank of General. My honor grew more and more, all of Tamriel knew my name. 

As in every story, fable and tale, next to good there must necessarily be evil; my evil was Ulfric. It all began when Mede II gave me the task of suppressing his revolt. And it was there that our eyes declared themselves a battle for eternity. 

It is not as everyone wants you to believe, I have never been in agreement with the White Gold Concordat, indeed, I cannot deny that I even feel a sort of dislike towards the Thalmor. But I had to do it. I refuse anything that could compromise the Empire.

[...]

Yet, I was almost done. The good was about to swallow the evil within itself: I had managed to capture the famous Ulfric, in Helgen. The ambush was a perfect plan, something that once again emphasized my intelligence and my abilities. Because this is our difference: he is instinct, I am intuition. The luck, however, doesn't seem so blind when it comes to him. Just when I was about to send him to the living room of the dead, the attack of a dragon catches us off guard, giving him the opportunity to escape. Many times I have thought that Ulfric and I are destined to fight forever, as if one could not exist without the other; I will do anything to break this curse, even if I am on the edge of life and death. 

The war is not over yet.


End file.
